The door opened.
My heart skipped, then began pounding like a drum inside my chest.
He entered.
He was tall—around six and a half feet—with a perfectly built body, the kind that looked carved rather than trained. He wore black—something like paint, something like cloth—a strange half-shoulder shirt that left part of his chest exposed. His skin looked unreal under the dim light, smooth and dark, absorbing shadows instead of reflecting them.
He was… handsome.
I noticed that much—and then stopped myself.
I didn't know whether I should be afraid or curious. Fear was what I was supposed to feel. But curiosity crept in anyway, dangerous and unwanted. I wondered what his face looked like, even though I knew I should never find out.
I remembered what Alexander had told me: He comes in human form.
But what kind of human form was this?
A body so fit, so perfect—it didn't feel earthly. Maybe demons chose to look like this on purpose. Maybe they wanted people to look.
I shook the thought away.
My mind drifted somewhere else, somewhere old and painful. I had never dated anyone in my life. After my parents divorced, they both remarried, built new families, and forgot me. They hated each other so much that somehow, that hatred found its way to me too. I was left alone.
Because of that, I never let anyone get close. I once liked a boy in college, but I never confessed. I didn't want to pull anyone into the miserable life I was already drowning in.
I was lost in those thoughts when Alexander's voice pulled me back.
"Say hello," he said quietly.
I looked at him. "Are you serious?"
He nodded.
My throat felt dry.
"H-hello, Mr. Demon," I said.
"Hello, Cristina," he replied.
His voice was deep, calm, and unsettlingly attractive—a manly voice that didn't match the danger I knew he carried. It sent a strange shiver through me.
I had so many questions for Alexander, but not now. Maybe tomorrow—if tomorrow came.
The demon sat down in the chair beside Alexander and looked at him expectantly. Alexander handed him the book. They began discussing it—pointing at pages, writing things down, explaining concepts like two old colleagues.
I didn't understand what they were doing.
They didn't feel like a boss and a demon. They looked almost like… buddies.
Alexander never once looked at his face. Not even for a second. Only half of the demon's body was ever in his line of sight.
I stayed silent. I didn't dare ask anything. I just listened.
Time slipped by.
2:59.
The demon stood up.
He extended his hand, palm open. The money appeared automatically in it, as if summoned by the gesture itself. He placed it on the table.
"Bye, Alexander," he said.
"Bye, sir," Alexander replied.
The gate opened.
The demon walked out.
I turned slightly, trying to ask something—but before the words could leave my mouth, everything dissolved.
The room vanished.
And I woke up back in the real world.